Whipped Cream, Anyone?
by Traci
Summary: It's not what you think - well... maybe... Bobby and Alex are assigned a fetish case, are these two partners keeping a deep, dark secret from everyone?


Disclaimer: Not mine. Actually I just started watching the show so I'm not sure who they belong to.  
  
Rating: R to be safe but most likely PG-13  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Category: Saying so would give it away  
  
Author: Traci  
  
Notes: This is my first CI fic. This is not my normal style of writing but I couldn't resist. I apologize in advance if some of the names are wrong, etc. Yes, I know this is out of character for some of them (you'll see what I mean). Oh, and one of the scenes no, is not written from experience - just from reading a lot of XF fanfic!  
  
A big thanks to Tracy - ran the idea by her and she came up with some of the lines in here. It's a scary thing when two scary minds work together!!!  
  
Whipped Cream, Anyone?  
  
It was late on a Friday afternoon. He hated to do it but... "Eames, Goren, my office," Deakins called out to them.  
  
The partners looked at each other across their desks, unsure of what they had done, but silently got up and went into their boss' office.  
  
Sitting down, Alexandra Eames asked, "What is this about, Sir?"  
  
Deakins sighed and handed her a file. "Two more deaths last night."  
  
Her partner, Robert Goren, looked at him. "Two more? What case?"  
  
"A new one that I am assigning you both to."  
  
Eames gasped as she looked through the file.   
  
"Didn't say it was pretty," Deakins told her.  
  
"How many deaths so far?" she asked, handing the file to Goren.  
  
"From what we can tell eight, including the ones last night."  
  
"A fetish case, Sir?" Goren asked in amusement and disbelief.  
  
"With Eames' experience on vice I figured you two might be able to come up with something."  
  
"Leather?" Goren continued. "Handcuffs?" Closing the file he looked at his partner then at Deakins. "I don't think it takes an expert to figure out this is just a run-of-the-mill case."  
  
"No, it doesn't. But most of the other teams are working on undercover cases and you two are the best."  
  
Eames and Goren glanced at each other.  
  
"Alright, Sir," Eames said, standing up. "We'll let you know what we come up with."  
  
He nodded and watched them leave.  
  
********************  
  
Pulling into his driveway, Goren sighed. "It's going to be a long night, isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah," Eames agreed unbuckling her seatbelt. "Hope it's not too late for delivery."  
  
When they stepped inside, she slid her jacket off and tossed it on his couch. "So, does Big Ol' Bobby feel like playing tonight?"  
  
He grinned and walked over to her. "When does Big Ol' Bobby not feel like playing?" he growled, kissing her.  
  
"Tsk, tsk," she admonished, breaking away. "You have been a very bad boy, haven't you?"  
  
He frowned as she walked away. "No I haven't," he whined. "I've been a very good boy."  
  
She turned around and walked back to him, forcefully pushing him down on the couch then stood before him with her hands on her hips. "Where were you last night?" she demanded.  
  
"Right here, in my home."  
  
She slapped him across the face. "No, you were not. I need the truth from you. Where... were... you... last...night?"  
  
"Watching you," he said. "Watching you all night."  
  
"I see I'm not going to get an answer out of you without some help." She took his hand and yanked him up from the couch. Even though petite, especially compared to him, she had strength. She dragged him up the stairs and took him to his bedroom where she proceeded to handcuff his wrists to the bed. "Take time to think about your answer. I will return momentarily with your punishment."  
  
And return she did, wearing a skin-tight leather outfit complete with matching cat ears. The six-inch stiletto heals made her seem even more powerful. With a crack of the whip in her hand, he stared at her. "Now, are you ready to tell me or do I have to beat it out of you?"  
  
"I already told you," he stammered, whimpering.  
  
She leaned in close. "I have a secret weapon to make you talk," she told him while ripping his shirt off him. Running her nails over his chest, digging in every so often, she placed her face inches from his. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Where were you last night?"  
  
"I... I..."  
  
She cracked the whip at her side once more. "C'mon, Goren, admit it. Make it easy on all of us."  
  
"No. I'm a man."  
  
"Admit it!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Then we'll do this the hard way." She left.  
  
He heard her descend the stairs, returning a few minutes later hiding something behind her back.   
  
She moved closer to him.   
  
He could feel her breath on his lips.  
  
"Admit it, Goren. You like cream."  
  
"I admit nothing," he adamantly told her.  
  
She lifted a can of whipped cream from behind her leather-clad back. "Admit it," she said, spraying some across his lips then proceeding to lick it off for him. "Admit it."  
  
"I'm a man," he growled. "I do not put whipped cream in my coffee."  
  
Alex grinned slyly. "Now was that so hard?" she asked, climbing on the bed and straddling him.  
  
Deakins sat straight up in his bed panting, covered in sweat. Blinking a few times, he relaxed in the darkness of his own bedroom. "It was only a dream. It was only a dream."  
  
***************  
  
Still unsettled from his nightmare, Deakins tried to look as natural as possible as he walked into the precinct Monday morning. Passing by the vacant desks of Eames and Goren, he glanced down... and froze. A pair of shiny handcuffs rested on Eames' desk. 'Nothing unusual about that. She's a detective. Of course she'd have handcuffs,' he told himself.  
  
He opened his office up, grabbed his mug and headed to the coffee room. As he walked in, he stopped for a brief moment at the sight of Alex spraying whipped cream in her coffee. Images of his dream flashed through his mind.  
  
"Sir?" Goren asked, stirring his own coffee. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Y...yeah. Just a Monday morning thing," he stammered, turning from them and pouring himself a cup of coffee. He had just taken a sip when...  
  
"Bobby, just admit you like whipped cream in your coffee, will you?" Alex said.  
  
Deakins swallowed hard.  
  
"I admit no such thing, Alex," he told her.  
  
Deakins proceeded to spit out the coffee and ran from the room, leaving his coffee behind.  
  
Eames and Goren looked at each other.  
  
"Was it something we said?" she asked, sipping her coffee.  
  
Goren shrugged. "Maybe he had a rough weekend." He reached over and wiped away her whipped cream mustache.  
  
She smiled and together they went to their desks to start a new week.  
  
The End 


End file.
